Follow the Fader

Itemized: Taylor Supply Hill Climber Jacket

Every week a different FADER staff member will pick a clothing item or accessory that he or she has lately been spending a lot of time with—or would like to—and write a little love letter to it. We would’ve done a column on who we’re dating but that seemed a little bit much. This week Peter Macia writes about Taylor Supply's Hill Climber Jacket.

When I was in junior high/high school, my dad frequently traveled to Europe for business and would usually come back with some interesting gift from abroad. One time, after a visit to somewhere in England, he brought me a genuine Barbour Waxed Bushman hat that was a little tight on the head but that I still have because it's indestructible and keeps my brain dry during New York's unexpected downpours. This was probably early ’90s when he gave it to me, so there weren't a lot of dudes walking around in waxed canvas or fedora-ish hats. It was on the not cool side of fashion at the time, believe me. I don't mean that to sound like I was ahead of the curve, because I was not. In my head, I looked like I was on my way to do something tough, like shear a sheep or build a stone wall against the cruel, bitter wind coming off the North Sea, but to everyone else I was the dork who wore a floppy cowboy hat to the library.

On that same trip, my dad bought himself a Barbour jacket, that he still has as far as I know. It's the same type that is now quite popular with semi-gentlemen all along the internet, but he wasn't trying to set trends then either. Great jacket, though, and I used to borrow it when he wasn't looking, but never had one of my own. Which of course leads to Taylor Supply's evocatively-named Hill Climber, a unique translation of the waxed classic.

Taylor Supply was founded by Christophe Hascoat (real name) in New York City and is designed and produced locally, so not only are the jacket's designers keenly aware of the type of needs we have here, but also, its purchase contributes directly to our crappy economy. Most importantly, it stands out in the tradition of New York menswear, subtle twists and triumphs that merely imply distinction rather than demand it. Notably: the curved, wool-lined collar and patch pockets on the chest that combine dockworker and hunter, respectively, in a way that my lifestyle never will.